


Fate Will Twist the Both of You

by orphan_account



Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:51:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This story is inspired by the original Empire pilot script.This is basically me fooling around with the events of season one to detail how Cookie and Lucious find their way back to each other.Events won't occur in the same way or order in which they happened on the show, and secondary character roles and names will also be changed.





	1. The End in the Beginning

Two weeks. Cookie had waited two weeks before she went down to Empire to make it clear that she was there to get what was rightfully hers. She had wanted to give her ex-husband time to stress about what she was up to, make him sweat before she marched up in that building and raised hell.

The first night after her release, Jamal practically begged her to stay with him, ensuring her that his guestroom looked nothing like the rest of his apartment. Sure enough, he was right. The room was rather nice. But Cookie hardly slept at all that night. The bed felt strange. Comfortable as it was, it didn't feel right. She was so accustomed to sleeping in that tiny prison bed, on that thin, lumpy mattress that experiencing something else threw her off. Made it hard to settle. She kept waiting for someone to come and tell her that it was a lie, a trick. That that moment, being there with her son, wasn't real. But it never happened. And when Cookie awoke the next morning to a giddy Jamal, she hugged him again, just to be sure.

By the third day, everyone knew she was out. She was at a café having lunch with Andre and Jamal when Vernon showed up. The look on his face told her that Lucious had sent him to talk to her instead of coming himself. Coward. Vernon didn't stay long, and after Cookie and her sons finished their lunch, they went to see the apartment Lucious had bought her. When Vernon had mentioned it, she rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. The apartment was lovely, though. Impeccably well designed and fully furnished and equipped with everything she needed. By the end of the first week, her sons—minus Hakeem—were almost finished helping her add her own flair to it.

As she sat on her couch during one of the many breaks they took, rifling through the box containing her family photos, she came across a picture frame that housed a photo of her cradling a baby Hakeem. Cookie's mind kept replaying her encounter with him earlier that week. God, he had been so angry. She knew establishing a relationship with him wouldn't be easy, but not once did she anticipate him being so consumed by rage in her presence, completely indifferent about anything she had to say. But that certainly wasn't about to deter her from trying.

Yesterday, she and Jamal had gone down to Philly to see Carol, and when Cookie had told her about her confrontation with Hakeem, Carol had suggested that he probably reacted that way because he had spent years feeling unloved and abandoned by her. Well that, coupled with the fact that his ass was spoiled and entirely disrespectful. As if Cookie hadn't figured that out on her own.

While Cookie had conversed with her sister; Jamal, amiable as ever, entertained his little cousins who were beaming to be in his presence simply because he was Lucious Lyon's son. Even when Carol had told them to leave Jamal alone, they didn't shy away from him.

Carol had always been a talker, but gosh did she have a lot to say that day. Cookie had found it difficult not to scoff at all of her unsolicited advice, and when Carol kept asking, "When you gon see Lucious?" Cookie had to refrain herself from strangling her. _I'll go see his yella ass when I'm good and damn ready_. Nonetheless, she had enjoyed spending time with her sister without a glass window between them.

* * *

In prison, time always seemed to drag on and on. But ever since Cookie had been released, it was as if someone pressed fast forward on her life. Two weeks of freedom and Cookie had already been up and through New York with Jamal by her side. He had been so excited to share his life with her, "I come here whenever I need to clear my head." He had told her after convincing her to come to the rooftop with him so they could admire the breathtaking view of the skyline. "Ma, that's my favourite spot to eat at. Can you come to dinner with me and Michael?" He had asked, pointing at a restaurant through the window on their drive back to Manhattan. And the way he had looked at her, bright eyes enhanced by that smile she loved so much, Cookie couldn't say no. Later that night, when she had told Jamal that he didn't have to keep inviting her everywhere, he had left her teary-eyed with his response. _Ma, you been by yourself for seventeen years. You just got out, you not about to be alone again if I can help it._

As Cookie stood in front of her bathroom mirror, trying to get the front of her hair to behave, she thought about the lovely time she'd had at Le Bernardin the night before. She still found it hard to believe that she was free to go wherever she pleased. And that day, her destination was Empire Entertainment.

Jamal stood in the doorway watching her, trying to convince her to hurry up, otherwise Lucious would be gone before they arrived.

Cookie turned on her heel, propped a hand on her hip, and addressed him with a simple, "Boy, don't rush me."

"Ma, I'm just sayin'. You been in there forever."

She tossed the comb on the counter and nearly caused Jamal to lose his balance when she bumped into him on her way out of the bathroom. He watched as she entered her room and made her way to the closet, grumbling to herself all the way there.

"Why you put the hat on?" He asked as she emerged from the closet and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

"Cuz I don't like the way my hair looks." Cookie told him, running her hands over her pants, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. She then turned to face him, "How do I look?"

His response was immediate, "You look great, Ma. Same as you did last time you asked me. And you gon look even better when we get up outta her."

Cookie smacked her lips and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him, "Don't get smart with me, Jamal." She grabbed her purse off the bed, "Let's go." And he quickly followed her as she strutted out of the apartment.

* * *

The drive to Empire was short, but it felt way too long to Cookie. She was eager to get there, knew exactly what she was going to say to her ex-husband when she saw him. Lord knows she had practiced it time and time again.

When they exited the car, they were met with a flock of photographers and reporters who had been a thorn in Cookie's side ever since they had found out who she was. The reporters bombarded her with the same series of questions and tried to shove business cards in her hand with a, "If you could just give me a call, the network would really like an interview with you." Cookie didn't give them a second look, she knew they just wanted the dirt on Lucious. One of them even had the nerve to suggest she write a tell-all. Yeah, right. She scoffed at the idea as she followed Jamal into the building.

What annoyed Cookie most about all the attention was the fact that the media kept referring to her as Lucious Lyon's ex-wife, as though she didn't have a name. Three days of their constant nagging and she was already fed up; she wondered how her family had spent years dealing with them.

"Ma, you coming?" Jamal asked, prompting her to follow him down the hall.

Cookie was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at all of the gold and platinum records and the pictures of Lucious adorning the walls. Hearing about what Lucious and their company had become was one thing, but actually being able to see it in person left her lost for words. Cookie thought about all the time she and Lucious had spent talking about what they wanted, planning how they were going to obtain it despite what little resources were available to them. They'd had more than their fair share of setbacks, but there she was, inside the physical manifestation of everything they'd desired.

"You need me to come with you?" Jamal asked, pointing towards Lucious' office.

"No baby, I'm good."

"Okay, then. Hakeem is here, so you can find me in the studio with him if you need to talk to me before you leave."

After responding to her son, Cookie walked the short distance down the hall and entered Lucious' massive office. Her eyes focused on the stand near the sitting area, displaying almost every award a musician can win—Grammys, Billboard, AMA's...She circled around his desk, then ambled towards the windows, stopping in front of them to take in the stunning view of Central Park. Cookie then made her way back to the front of the office and surveyed the items on the shelf lining the wall. Everything about the office screamed 'Lucious Lyon', She had no doubt he had spent a considerable amount of time and money ensuring it turned out exactly how he wanted it.

Cookie leaned a bit closer to the shelf to get a better view of the photos, making a mental note of each one: Lucious and Stevie Wonder, Lucious and Patti LaBelle, Lucious and Chaka Khan, Lucious and—the last photo caused her to do a double take. It featured her ex-husband with his arms wrapped around a beautiful woman with her lips curved into a radiant smile. Her hand shook as she picked up the photo, they looked so happy.

Cookie let out a ragged breath. It wasn't supposed to be like this, him happily living in grandeur with some woman who wasn't her. She had spent so many nights in that dank cell imagining what it would be like to be with him again. Cookie didn't think she would have made it past those first few months. That constant ache she felt, the overwhelming need to see and hold her husband and children. Prison had taught her what it truly meant to be lonely.

Some nights she had lain staring at the ceiling visualizing the conversations she would've had with her sons if she were free. Andre had turned thirteen four months after she went to prison. Cookie had imagined telling him, _Mama's so proud of you baby. I can't believe how fast you're growing up. You're a teenager now, but don't for one minute think that means yo ass can start getting slick with me...._ And she would laugh at the thought of his reaction before she could even finish the rest of it. Cookie had missed out on so much of their lives. She had left behind a nine-month-old baby, an eight-year-old, and a twelve-year-old, and returned to eighteen, twenty-five, and thirty-year-old men.

She hated Lucious for keeping them away from her. Hated him for everything he did and didn't do while she was locked up. Cookie vividly remembered the day she had received divorce papers. She had stared at them so long the words began to blur, and she couldn't get her hand to stop shaking when she tried to sign. Everything Lucious had ever told her felt like a lie. _You're the first woman I've ever been in love with, and the only woman I'll ever love. Cooks, it's always been you....You're the standard, baby. I can't imagine raising our kids and spending the rest of my life with anyone but you. I'll never let anything happen to you, nothing's gonna tear my family apart._

"How'd you get out so early?" His voice startled her, nearly causing her to drop the picture frame she was holding. She quickly placed it back on the shelf, hoping that he doesn't acknowledge she had been staring at it.

 _How'd you get out so early?_ Of all the things he could have said to her, he went with that? God, he felt stupid the minute the words left his mouth.

Cookie's eyes pulled him in, scanning his frame from head to toe. She couldn't believe that Lucious was actually standing in front of her, it had been so many years. Cookie could feel her heart thumping against her chest, the sound echoing in her ears, and the prickly sensation in her fingers caused her to run her hands across her thighs.

Lucious slowly approached her, his eyes never wavering from hers. Cookie was still as beautiful as she had been all those years ago. He reached out and drew her into him, his arms enveloping her body. He had spent so much time fantasizing about what it would be like to hold her again. The hug was painfully awkward at first because Cookie stood with her arms to her sides, rigid. Then she gradually allowed herself to sink into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and wrapping her arms around his back. Cookie inhaled deeply then let out an audible breath, wondering how it was possible for him to smell exactly as she remembered. Seventeen years apart and he still felt like home.

It was that thought that snapped her out of her reverie. Just as Lucious began to relish the feeling of her body against his, she roughly pushed him away, extended her hand as far back as it could go, then propelled it forward, slapping him across the face. Cookie watched him stagger back, vibrations of pain spreading from her palm to her fingertips. Her bright red palm mirrored the red mark on Lucious' face.

"You black bastard!" She spat. He stared at her, eyes wide, hand on his cheek. Cookie tried to think of her next words, but everything felt a little scrambled. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She had a speech, a clear plan. But seeing him brought back all the memories; the thought of everything she had lost was at the forefront of her mind. His abandonment had left a scar. Show up. All he had to do was show up. One simple action could have spared her years of pain.

"The only one that came was Jamal. He's the only one." Cookie continued, teary-eyed, hardly able to get the words out. "How could you do that to me?" She drew in a shaky breath, determined not to cry. She had already shed too many tears over him.

Lucious dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to look at her pained face. When he had first lost her, he could hardly breathe. It was like he had been run over, the impact so strong it expelled the air from his lungs. He had shut himself in their bedroom for days at a time, too distressed to take on the grief of their children as well as his own. He had felt like he was dangling, wanting nothing more than for his feet to touch solid ground again. Everything that Lucious had once found beautiful became painful to see, smell, touch. They had reminded him of her.

Lucious focused on her pleading eyes, "I thought about you every day." Hearing that only incensed Cookie more. If he had thought about her every day, he would have come to see her, right? He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled heavily, "I just....I couldn't take it...I'm sorry, Cookie, I really am, but I was...it was too painful for me. I couldn't take it anymore more."

Everything he said sounded so cheap to her ears. _It was too painful for me. I couldn't take it anymore more. It was too painful for me._ His words played on a loop in her head. Too painful for _him_? Cookie felt like he was being selfish, like he hadn't even considered the pain she had endured year after year.

"Yo ass is so full of shit, Lucious!" She spat, her last word punctuated with a jab to his chest. "You forgot about me the second you divorced me in there." Cookie took a step forward, closing most of the distance between them. " _It was too painful for me_." She mocked, staring daggers at him. "You weren't the one who had to sit in that damn cell suffering day after day for seventeen years."

Lucious just stood there as she ripped into him, her words laced with venom. She raged on and on, only pausing to catch her breath. Honestly, he had been expecting it. Lucious had often wondered what she would say to him if given the opportunity, and it certainly didn't take a genius to figure out that she would be angry and hurt beyond anything he could comprehend.

When Cookie had been arrested, the judge had told them thirty years. Lucious had resigned himself to the thought of never being with her again. He had gotten used to living with the lingering guilt that accompanied him moving on with his life while she remained caged.

"You know what, Lucious? You disgust me! You were out there fucking every—"

"Babe, I need you to sign these." The air between them stilled when the sound of Anika's voice accompanied the opening of the door. She walked straight up to Lucious and stood to the left of him. Lucious shifted awkwardly, Anika and Cookie on either side of him. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but this can't wait." She said, which was untrue.

Lucious' secretary, Becky, had told Anika that his ex-wife was in his office. And due to the door being left slightly ajar, Anika had heard Cookie's tirade from down the hall. So she had gone into her office and grabbed the documents that she really didn't need Lucious to sign until the end of the week. Anika had figured her man could use an interruption.

She glanced at Cookie, then at Lucious before placing the folder in his hand. That's when she noticed the mark on his face, the outline of fingers clearly discernible. Anika's eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly open. She looked at Cookie as though she expected an explanation.

"You got something to say to me, Boo Boo Kitty?" Cookie snapped, tired of Anika staring at her.

Anika paused for a moment, confused by why she was addressed as "Boo Boo Kitty". She cleared her throat and walked a little closer to Cookie. "Anika," She said by way of introduction, extending her hand for Cookie to shake, hoping civility was possible. Cookie just stared at her hand as though it was dirty, then blazed past them and made her way to the opposite end of Lucious' office. As Anika watched Cookie walk away, her mother's voice played in her head: _such flagrant impoliteness must never be tolerated._ Nonetheless, Anika shook of Cookie's rude behaviour and focused on Lucious.

He sat on the couch near the door, and Anika stood in front of him as he quickly looked through the papers before signing them. He handed the folder back to Anika when he was finished, and she pecked him on the lips before sashaying out of his office.

Lucious stood up and slid his hands into the pockets of his pants as he made his way to the far end of his office, taking a deep breath in an attempt to collect himself. Cookie's presence had turned him inside out. She had always been able to make him feel things that he couldn't understand or explain.

The minute he saw her sitting behind his desk, he knew their moment was over. Cookie was all business. Pissed as she was to see Anika, Cookie was also grateful for her interruption. She felt the reins on her emotions loosening, and Anika's presence gave her time to pull herself together.

When Lucious made his way to the side of the desk and leaned against it, staring at her intently; she was ready to list her demands. Cookie was not about to have him discount everything she had done to help start their company.

 


	2. Not so Black and White

Having made it from selling dope on the street to his current position as CEO of a multimillion-dollar company, Lucious Lyon was no stranger to hard work. But lately, preparing for Empire's upcoming IPO while trying to cope with his recent diagnosis had him feeling like he had spent the past two weeks working a double shift while hungover. Keeping his condition a secret and trying to manage it while everything and everyone kept coming at him in all directions was not an easy task.

He had managed to successfully defend Empire's IPO launch after two artists were involved in a nightclub shootout. Then there was the situation with Bunkie, pulling a gun on him and threatening to disclose his past crimes. Lucious had certainly taken care of that, though. Bunkie, of all people, should have known better than to mess with a man like him.

Nevertheless, if one were to compile a list of all the people that had Lucious stressed in one way or another, Cookie Lyon would most definitely be at the top of it. Lucious had met most of her demands, and although she was upset about not receiving the head of A&R position, managing Jamal and Tiana seemed to pacify her.

But there was something about her recent behaviour that worried him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Which was why he found himself sitting in his office with his son.

They sat silently for a few seconds. Lucious' eyes surveyed Jamal as though he was searching for something, while Jamal tried not squirm under his father's intense gaze. Lucious ran a hand over his face and sat a little straighter in his seat before severing the silence.

"You look good, Mal," He began. "So, how you been? And that friend of yours...Michael, right?"

Jamal was seated on the plush couch near the bar, and Lucious was seated in the chair across from him. He sighed, "Dad, come on, cut the act. You know that ain't why you call me in here."

Lucious couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips before continuing, "You know your mama don't even talk to me?"

Jamal gave his father a look that clearly said, _Seriously, dad? What the hell do you expect?_

The last time Cookie had spoken to Lucious about anything that wasn't business related was a little over a month ago, at the yacht party held to formally announce her return. Their interaction had started off far better than Lucious had anticipated, considering she damn near tore the skin off his face the week before. Conversation between them had come with little effort, and the way her laugh floated through the air and wrapped itself around him reminded him of old times.

At one point, they had retreated to his room on the yacht, wanting to get away from all of the people that were swarming around them. But their once friendly banter, accompanied by hands traveling from knees to thighs, had come to an abrupt halt and took a sharp left when they got into an argument, in which Lucious professed that he would do everything in his power to ensure that Jamal never surpassed Hakeem. Upset and disgusted by her ex-husband's willingness to stagnate his son's success simply because of his sexuality; Cookie left, promising him that she would be more than prepared to counteract anything he had up his sleeve. Since then, all of their conversations had been Empire related, clipped, and straight to the point.

"She mentioned anything to you?" Lucious asked. He then stood up and made his way to the bar to fix himself a drink.

"Anything like what, dad?" Jamal said, watching his father pick up a decanter and fill a glass with bourbon.

Lucious took a sip of his drink and released a frustrated breath before making his way back to his seat. "Like something that might be bothering her." He clarified.

"You mean besides you?" Jamal answered, unable to suppress his grin. He had witnessed the way his mother shooed his dad away from her on more than one occasion, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find it funny.

"Mal, I'm serious." Lucious said, giving him a steely gaze to emphasize his point.

"She ain't mention nothing to me, dad," Jamal responded. "And even if she did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Yeah well, she may not be sayin' nothing, but that don't mean somethin' ain't going on," Lucious said, rubbing his chin pensively. "She ain't been herself lately."

"Yeah...I know what you mean," Jamal agreed, recalling that his mother had been pretty uneasy lately, and he did find it strange that she had decided to work from home today. "She been kinda jumpy." He added.

Lucious nodded his head in agreement. He had noticed a change in Cookie's behaviour over the past few days. She would stand at a distance from the elevator to check out the inside before entering, she constantly glanced behind her as though she suspected that someone was watching or following her, and overall, it just seemed like something was troubling her.

He had tried to get her to talk to him, asked her what was going on, but Cookie was determined to keep him at arm's length, strutting away from him with a _stay outta my damn business, Lucious._

Although he completely understood why she would be reluctant to confide in him, Lucious couldn't help feeling hurt by it. Nonetheless, he wasn't about to give up that easily. He planned to go to her apartment tonight after his dinner with Andre and a new investor.

Lucious was prepared to bang on that door until she opened it in sheer annoyance if that's what it took. He was going to get Cookie to talk to him.

* * *

Contemplating the events of her day, Cookie was in her living room with her body sprawled across the length of the couch and a glass of Gran Patrón Platinum in hand. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before taking another sip of her drink, waiting for the smooth liquor to mellow her out.

She'd had a hell of a week, and today had only served to further aggravate her. Carol had called her in a panic about waking up that morning only to find red roses on her doorstep. Cookie had stopped listening to Carol the moment her brain processed the word rose; she was all too aware of the danger it signified.

Cookie despised Agent Carter for coercing her into testifying. Since her stint on the stand, Cookie had spent her days cautiously watching her surroundings, certain that Frank would put a hit out on her the minute he found out she had testified. But Carol's call reminded Cookie that her certainty that Frank would come directly for her had caused her to overlook one important thing: Frank's boys often messed with family members first before closing in on their target.

Wasting no time, Cookie had made her way down to Philly with a pistol and a fat stack of cash in her Chanel handbag, ready to do whatever it took to neutralize the situation.

It was what had happened after she arrived at Carol's house that had Cookie one hundred and one shades of pissed. Cookie took a long sip of her drink and released an exasperated breath.

Carol had certainly done a number of brainless things throughout her life, but at the moment, Cookie thought her most recent fuck up warranted a spot at the top.

She had spotted it the minute she entered Carol's living room: A bouquet. A _fucking bouquet_ with a damn note wedged in the middle of it.

_"Bitch, I ought to beat yo ass for making me come all the way down here for nothin'." Cookie spat. She yanked the note from the bouquet and read it aloud,_ **_I had a real good time last night, baby. Can't wait to see you again tonight._ **

_Carol raised her hands in surrender and shakily approached her sister, "Cook, just let me explain before you overreact. Look, I was scared, okay? From the moment you told me about what you did, I was worried 'bout what was gon' happen. So when I opened that door this morning and saw those roses, I freaked. I immediately thought Frank's boys had put 'em there. My ass panicked and ran back inside and the first thing I did was call you. When I finally calmed down enough to go back out there and pick 'em up, I realized they were from Raheem...you know that guy I told you I was seeing? Well by then you were just about here, so I waited 'til you showed up to tell you I was wrong."_

Cookie understood that fear can sometimes make people do and say irrational things, but damn she wished Carol had fully assessed the situation before calling her. That certainly would have saved her from spending the better part of her morning frightened and overwhelmed with guilt that her actions had put her little sister in harm's way. And it definitely would have prevented her from wasting a whole day in Philly when she could've been at Empire scouting songwriters for Jamal.

Cookie reached for the bottle of Patrón on the coffee table and refilled her glass. _If that whole mess with Carol turned out to be nothin', and Frank's punk ass crew hasn't retaliated by now, then maybe that white bitch was right about them not being able to find out,_ she mused. Regardless, she wasn't about to let her guard down until she was certain both she and her family were in the clear. She sank her body back into the sofa and swirled the glass in her hand, watching the crystal clear liquid move around.

That's when she heard it. The first ring. Cookie thought she had imagined it, so she set her glass on the table, picked up the remote, and muted the television, waiting to see if she would hear it again. And she surely did, the unmistakeable sound of her doorbell ringing....again, and again, and again. She checked the time on her phone before marching towards the door, noting that it was a few minutes past midnight.

_What the hell is his ass doing here?_ Cookie mumbled to herself after looking through the peephole only to see her ex-husband standing outside. She leaned her back against the door and folded her arms across her chest, debating whether or not to let him in. But before Cookie even came to a firm decision on her own, the piercing sound of his fist banging against the door had her opening it just to silence him.

"Why is yo slimy ass outside my goddamn door making all that noise?!" She yelled, after unlocking the door and yanking it open. As Cookie watched him just stand there, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips, she considered closing it right back in his face.

_"Lucious!"_ She hissed after he had the nerve to sidestep her and amble toward her living room. She closed and locked the door, then placed both hands on her hips before addressing his retreating form. "Why are you here?" She growled, a beat between each word.

Lucious stopped his forward motion and turned to face her. "You weren't at work today, so I came to make sure you were okay." He stated. Lucious leaned against the wall separating the living room from the kitchen as he waited for her to respond. He took in the way she squinted her eyes at him, lips pursed and eyebrows knitted; he could practically see the wheels in her head turning.

Cookie walked a little closer to him and smacked her lips before responding. "Well, you've seen me. I'm fine. Now get out." She said, each statement accompanied by a neck roll.

"Why you always gotta be so damn rude, Cooks?" He asked, leaving his position against the wall and making his way further into the living room.

She followed Lucious' movements past the fireplace and stood in front of him when he stopped next to the couch. "Same reason yo ass is always so damn annoying." Cookie responded. She folded her arms across her chest and licked her lips before she went on. "Huh, got the nerve to talk 'bout I'm rude when yo smug ass is the one who invited yo'self up in my apartment at damn near one in the morning."

Lucious positioned himself on the edge of the sofa and blew out a heavy breath. "Cookie, I just wanna talk to you, so stop tryna pick a damn fight and sit ya ass down." He bellowed. And the dirty look she tossed him instantly prompted Lucious to amend the last part of his sentence. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Cooks, can you please sit down so we can have a conversation." He requested.

Cookie huffed and let her hands fall to her sides as her eyes surveyed her ex-husband. Lucious certainly possessed the ability to irk her like no other. But there was something about the way he was sitting there fidgeting with his fingers that led her to follow his request without protesting. She removed her glass from the table and took a sip of her drink before sitting next to him. "What do you wanna say to me, Lucious?" She asked, looking at him with expectation.

_What do you wanna say to me, Lucious?_ The simple question swirled around Lucious' head. There were so many things that he'd been holding in for so long; he didn't know where to begin, wasn't even sure if he should.

When Lucious was at dinner with Andre and the new investor, his thoughts had been more about Cookie than what was going on around him. And it wasn't just about his concern regarding the way she had been acting, Lucious couldn't stop thinking about the way Cookie had looked at him the last time he had seen her. There was something about it that unnerved him because he had seen it quite frequently since her release, and it wasn't something he was previously familiar with: The way she had tilted her head to side and scanned his face with squinted, brooding eyes as though she were questioning, wondering if the man she fell in love with was still there.

It was confusing, the situation they found themselves in. It felt like they should've been able to pick up where they had left off, and in an ideal world, doing so would be practical, easy. But things were a lot more convoluted than they outwardly appeared. Lucious had a lot of affairs he needed to get sorted out, and as far as he knew, little time to do so.

_What do you wanna say to me, Lucious?_ As much as he wanted to, he wasn't about to say anything about giving him another chance, considering he was attached to someone else, albeit by necessity. Cookie was the love of his life, of that, Lucious was certain. And he wanted her back, which wasn't some new development; it was enduring. Lucious had wanted her back the moment he had lost her, and any circumstance he had found himself in since then never changed that.

"Lucious," Cookie sighed. "Are you just gonna sit there staring at me, or are you actually gonna say something?" She asked, folding her legs beneath her and nestling into the couch. "It's late, and I'm tired. I wanna go to my damn bed."

Lucious scooted closer to her and inhaled deeply before speaking. "Cooks, you know me and you been through a lot of shit together. We been out in them Philly streets since we was kids, and no matter what sorta situation we found ourselves in, you knew I had ya back and I damn sho knew you had mine. If someone had beef with you, then that meant they ass had beef with me too. You were always there for me and vice versa....We ain't in the streets no mo', and you ain't my wife no mo'..." he paused for a moment, temporarily breaking eye contact before continuing. "But you know just as well as I do that that don't mean a damn thing has changed....So why you keeping secrets?"

Cookie pursed her lips before responding. "I don't know what you talkin' 'bout, Lucious."

Lucious shook his head in disbelief. "So yo ass gon' sit there and lie to me?" He asked. "Like I ain't notice the way you been 'round here acting like the damn Grim Reaper himself is out to get you."

"Lucious, I'm fine, okay?" She said after a long breath. "Nothing's going on. Just a few minor misunderstandings with my P.O; she's been all over my ass lately. Nothing I can't handle."

Lucious narrowed his eyes at her, not buying a word of it. "You know all you gotta do is say the word, Cooks." He said, placing a hand on Cookie's thigh and caressing her smooth skin.

"I know that, Lucious. But like I said, everything is fine." She replied, a faint smile on her lips. Cookie studied his face for a moment. She knew better than anyone what her ex-husband was capable of, which was exactly why she didn't want to involve him in anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Lucious was a hothead, and she didn't need him starting shit with Frank and his crew without cause, considering they had yet to retaliate. They didn't need that kind of drama surrounding them, especially while preparing the company to go public.

"Nuh uh, don't even think about it, Lucious." She demanded, recognizing the meaning of the intense look colouring his features.

"Think 'bout what?" Lucious asked with feigned confusion.

"Boy, don't act like you don't know. You think I can't tell when ya devious ass is planning somethin'?" Cookie said, pointing her index finger at him. "I swear if I even dream you hired one of yo punk ass henchmen to follow me around, I'ma kill ya yella ass!" She threatened.

Lucious smiled broadly. "Why you worried 'bout me getting somebody to follow you if you ain't got nothin' to hide?" He asked, eyes filled with amusement.

Cookie rolled her eyes and brought her glass to her lips. "Ain't nobody playin' with you, Lucious. You bet' not hire nobody to spy on me."

"You know you a terrible host right?" He said, disregarding her last comment. "You sittin' up in front of me with this damn drink, and all this time I been here, you ain't even offer me one."

Cookie tossed him a mischievous smile. "Yo ass is an uninvited guest. You ain't getting shit." She said. And as much as Cookie tried to, she couldn't stop herself from laughing when he removed the glass from her hand and helped himself to the rest of her drink.

"So you gon' tell me what's going on with you?" Cookie asked after a brief silence between them. Lucious stared at her with questioning eyes, so Cookie went on. "You ain't the only one who notices things, Lucious. It's like something's weighing heavily on you, and whatever it is has you scared. Which says a lot, 'cause you're not an easy man to frighten."

"Ain't nothin' going on with me, Cook. Just stressed about the IPO." Lucious said. He didn't know how to tell Cookie he was dying when he had yet to come to terms with it himself. He couldn't imagine the words leaving his mouth: _I have ALS and the doctor says I have three years, maybe less, to live._ Telling her would make it so much more real. The only person who knew he was dying was Anika, and having to see her crestfallen face was enough. The thought of how much the news would devastate Cookie was gut-wrenching.

Cookie huffed and swatted his hand away from her thigh. "So yo ass gon' sit there and lie to me?" She said, tossing his words back at him.

"Ain't nobody lyin', Cookie." He replied, placing his hand back in its previous position. "Look, you've seen all the shit that's been going on lately; it's a lot to handle. And I'm ready for it to be done with."

"Whateva, Lucious. I don't care what you say; I know yo ass is lyin'." Cookie said, glaring at him. Then her eyes zeroed in on the placement of his hand. "And _stop_ touching me." She growled, flicking his hand away from her. "I don't know why you always gotta keep putting yo hands on me." Cookie grumbled, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"You don't know?" He said, licking his lips and settling his eyes on her breasts, which were accentuated by the low-cut of her lacy, black camisole. Lucious' eyes then roamed the length of her, taking in the expanse of bare, silky skin. He shifted in his seat, unable to dismiss images of legs slick with cocoa butter pulling him in, while breathy moans and desperate pants served as the symphony to their lovemaking.

"Ol' perv." Cookie said, picking up a pillow from the couch, placing it in front of her chest, and tucking her legs back underneath her. "Don't try to hide," Lucious grinned, trying to pull the pillow away. "Like I ain't already seen it all." He said, tossing the pillow to the floor after she had released her grip on it. Cookie tried to maintain a straight face, but Lucious' infectious laugh and adoring eyes weakened her resolve, and she ended up laughing breathlessly right along with him.


	3. Dirty Little Secret

Six days after Lucious had dropped by Cookie's apartment, Bunkie's body was discovered. The authorities had yet to make the identification, but as Lucious sat at his desk silently reading a _New York Daily News_ article titled "Body Found Floating in Hudson River," he knew without a doubt that it was Bunkie.

_A badly decomposed body was pulled out of the Hudson River Thursday morning, authorities said. The remains were discovered around 10:30 am in the water near West 132nd Street and Hudson River Parkway._

_The NYPD responded to the scene and divers from Emergency Services Unit fished the body out of the water._

_Police said it's not clear how the person died, or whether the corpse was a man or woman due to the state of decomposition._

_The unidentified body will be turned over to the Medical Examiner's Office to determine the cause of death._

Lucious sighed after he finished reading the article and pushed his iPad away from him. He had been keeping an eye out for any news of discovery, and nearly a month after he had murdered his long time friend, he received it. Lucious had hoped it would have taken longer for Bunkie's body to be discovered because he didn't like the idea of a murder investigation occurring so close to Empire's stock market launch date. He knew it was standard procedure for detectives leading the case to speak to family members, friends, and anyone who may be able to give them information relating to the last time Bunkie was seen alive, but he wished it could have been avoided. Lucious had always disliked communicating with law enforcement, and he had a nagging feeling in his gut that Bunkie's homicide investigation wouldn't be something that went away easily.

Lucious stroked his chin thoughtfully before standing up and making his way down to the studio to see Hakeem. He figured if Bunkie's body was as badly decomposed as the article suggested, it would take a while for him to be positively identified; so in the meantime; Lucious intended to carry out his days as he normally would. He'd play the part of the bereaved friend seeking justice when the time came; until then, it was business as usual.

When Lucious entered the studio, he sat in a chair at the back of the room and watched Hakeem, who was in the booth recording "Cop Out". When Hakeem had told him that he wanted to make a few changes to the track, Lucious had been opposed to it because he thought the version Hakeem had recorded earlier that week was a sure hit. But as he watched his son, Lucious couldn't deny that Hakeem had taken the song to another level.

"That boy wants to be like you so bad." Cookie said, alerting him to her presence. Lucious responded before looking up to greet her. "Hell, if I was him, I'd wanna be like me, too." He grinned. "Half the damn time the boy don't know his ass from a hole in the ground."

"Shut up, stupid." Cookie said, her grin matching his. She sauntered further into the room and stood beside him, her eyes watching Hakeem in the booth. "Ain't nothin' wrong with my baby." She added.

"Keep tellin' yo'self that." Lucious joked. Cookie rolled her eyes at him then returned her gaze to her son. As Lucious watched both Cookie and Hakeem, thoughts of how the news of Bunkie's death would affect them filled his mind. Lucious knew how close Bunkie and Hakeem were; Bunkie was like a second father to Hakeem. Out of all of his sons, Lucious knew that Hakeem would have the hardest time dealing with Bunkie's death. And Cookie, well Bunkie was one of few family members she ever had a relationship with, and although they hadn't been in contact for the past two decades; Lucious was aware of just how much she loved her cousin.

When Hakeem was finished, Lucious instructed the sound engineer to leave and took his place in the seat behind the soundboard. Lucious turned on the microphone and addressed his son. "That was great, Keem." Lucious complimented, his face beaming with pride. "You keep rolling out tracks like that and you gon' be a huge star in no time." He added. Hakeem made his way out of the booth and stood in front of his father. "You really think so, dad?" He asked, his face glowing with excitement. "Man, I know so. I told you you had it." Lucious declared, pulling his son into a hug.

Cookie remained at the back of the studio for a moment, a smile on her face as she watched Lucious interact with Hakeem. She wanted Jamal to have a relationship with Lucious the way Hakeem did, which was why she was there to talk to her ex-husband about spending time with Jamal. She had noticed the intense longing in Jamal's eyes when he watched his father and brother together, and it tugged at her heart. She didn't want Jamal to feel like his father didn't love him, or like he didn't have a place in Lucious' life.

Cookie ambled towards the soundboard and positioned herself in front of Lucious and Hakeem. "Ya father's right, Keem. That was amazing. A definite hit." Cookie said, a proud smile lighting up her face. Hakeem removed his phone from his pocket and began to fiddle with it, and when Cookie asked him about his album, he didn't respond. Cookie and Lucious shared a look before Lucious walked closer to Hakeem and swatted the phone out of his hand. "I know yo ass hear your mama talkin' to you!" Lucious said gruffly. Hakeem looked up and begrudgingly responded to his mother before picking up his phone and making his way out of the studio.

"Your son better thank God I don't feel like causing no scene today." Cookie said as she and Lucious stared after their son as he left. "I'll talk to him." Lucious offered, and when she turned to face him, he gently brushed her hair out of her face. Cookie's eyes remained fixed on his for a moment before she went on, "I actually came to see you about a similar situation." She began, and Lucious quirked his eyebrows in response. "You need to spend some time with your son, you know....the one you seem to have forgotten about."

Lucious folded his arms across his chest before responding, "You know me and Mal ain't got nothin' in common."

"And you know that's a damn lie." She countered. "You and Jamal have a lot in common, much more than you'd like to admit. He's more like you than you even notice, and all he's ever wanted is your love."

"I ain't never told that boy that I don't love him." He uttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah well, you sho have a funny way of showin' it." Cookie replied, then looked down at the phone in her hand and checked the time. "Look," She sighed. "I have a meeting to get to. Just make an effort to spend some time with your son....I shouldn't even have to be tellin' you this."

"If Mal wants to spend time with me, all he has to do is ask." Lucious stated, a smile tugging on his lips.

Cookie rolled her eyes at the smug look on his face. "I'm not playin' with you, Lucious." Cookie said. She sauntered towards the chairs at the back of the studio, and Lucious intently watched her every move. "Jamal and I won't be in the studio this afternoon, so there's your opening." She added, leaning slightly towards the chair in the corner as she removed her bag from it; and Lucious' eyes hungrily took in the view of her ass, the skin tight fabric of her dress hugging it perfectly.

"Get to know your son, Lucious." Cookie urged as she made her way to the door, but before she got out of his reach, Lucious latched is hand onto hers and turned her to face him. "What?" She questioned, her eyes locking with his. "Just stand there for a minute let me look at you, baby." Lucious said, and his smile widened when she didn't correct him for calling her baby. "This dress you got on don't leave much to the imagination, and I ain't got no complaints about it." He said, his eyes drinking in the way the indigo fabric clung to every curve, the mid-thigh length putting her legs on full display. Lucious returned his gaze to Cookie's, his sultry green eyes intensely focused on hers as he slowly ran a hand along her side. "Stop." Cookie grinned, when his hand began to creep lower. She wiggled her arm free and tossed him a triumphant smirk before continuing her walk to the door.

"Oh, and Lucious," Cookie said, stopping in the doorway and looking at him over her shoulder. "I ain't ya damn baby." But the smile on Cookie's face didn't make her declaration very convincing.

As Lucious watched her walk away, hips swinging with every step, his mind replayed a part of the conversation they'd had on her couch nearly a week ago:

_"You know I never stopped loving you, right?" Lucious said, taking her hand in his and slowly rubbing his thumb over the top of it._

_"Why are you doing this, Lucious?" Cookie sighed, studying his face._

_"Doing what?" Lucious asked, tightening his hold on her hand. "All I'm doing is being honest."_

_Cookie sat silently for a few seconds before giving him a simple response. "Don't you have someone at home waiting for you?" She said, as more of a statement than a question._

Lucious had read between the lines of Cookie's response.

When he had left Cookie's apartment that night, Lucious knew, more than ever, that he had to make a decision, and no matter what it was, someone was going to get hurt.

 


	4. Silent Observations

**_8 days later_ **

It was one of those situations where you're willing your body to move, but you find yourself rooted in place, unable to take your eyes off what's happening in front of you.

Anika was sitting on the chaise in the living room of Lucious' mansion, taking in the scene unfolding in the corner of the room. Cookie was seated on the bench in front of the piano, and Lucious was standing in front of her. Anika watched as Cookie swiped at her cheeks, her head bent mournfully towards her lap. She took in the way Lucious' chest rose and fell before he began to say something, encouraging Cookie to look up at him. Anika wished that he would speak a little louder so that she could hear him.

The entire Lyon family was at the mansion; Lucious and Vernon had given them the news about Bunkie a few minutes ago. Andre and Jamal seemed to handle it well enough, stunned, yet outwardly composed. Unlike his brothers, Hakeem's hurt was palpable. Cookie had tried to comfort him, but Hakeem had moved away from her touch like it had singed him and left the room in a frenzy, his brothers right on his tail. 

Anika couldn't control the spark of joy that shot through her in knowing that she wasn't the only person there who hated Cookie Lyon in one way or another. Anika found Cookie rude and unseemly. Even so, Anika couldn't help feeling sorry for Cookie. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to have a child you had spent years dreaming about reuniting with only to have them dismiss you. Anika was certain most of Cookie's tears were due to Hakeem's continuous rejection of her, rather than the death of her cousin.

Anika's eyes narrowed when Lucious motioned for Cookie to scoot over and made himself comfortable beside her. Cookie angled her body so that she could face him, and when Lucious leaned in and cupped Cookie's face in his hands, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs; Anika tightened her lips and flared her nostrils without conscious volition. Lucious began to speak again, and Anika wondered if he even realized how close his face was to Cookie's. _The bench is small, but there's no excuse for his face to be_ ** _that_** _close to hers_ , Anika thought. She was certain they were sharing the same breath at that point.

Anika wondered if they had forgotten she was there. Sure, she was sitting quietly at the back of the room and it had been a while since either of them looked in that direction, but still, she wasn't invisible. Anika wondered how they did it: behaved as though they were the only people in a room and everything else was background noise. It hurt more than infuriated her. Anika felt Lucious pulling away from her, felt it since the day Cookie waltzed into his office. Hard as she had tried, she couldn't get Lucious to come to bed that night.

But if Anika were to truly be honest with herself, she would admit that she had always felt like she never really had him. Like there was a part of him that he wasn't allowing her to access. Like he was in love with someone else. Anika's mother had noticed, though. "Why do you want to be with him, knowing that he doesn't love you as much as you love him?" Her mother had asked her. Anika never responded, but she had considered saying, "I love him enough for both of us."

There had been so many women, so many apologies over the course of their five-year relationship. She had often asked herself what he could possibly be searching for when she was right in front of him, loving him with everything she had. As Anika examined the look on Lucious' face as he listened to Cookie speak, the way his eyes remained so intensely focused on hers as though his next breath relied on what she was saying; Anika found her answer.

Anika adjusted her body in the chaise and glanced briefly to the right of her, temporarily distracted from the pair before her by Vernon's return. She figured he had gone to make a few calls to try and gather more information about the investigation. Anika had overheard him and Lucious discussing it earlier; Vernon had been reading the investigative summary of the autopsy report. Based on what she had heard, Anika had been able to piece together that after being shot in the head, Bunkie's body ended up in the Hudson (she wasn't exactly sure how) where it remained lodged between mud and rocks on the river's floor for weeks before the rocks loosened, causing his body to float to the surface. The thought of Bunkie's body rotting in that water made her skin crawl.

Anika stole another glance at Vernon, who was also watching Cookie and Lucious. And as though he had sensed her eyes on him, Vernon turned to face her and gave her a sympathetic smile, which made Anika wonder if he knew something she didn't. The rich, melodic sound of Cookie's laughter prompted Anika to redirect her attention, the sound dispelling all her macabre musings. Whatever Lucious had said to cheer her up had certainly done the trick; Cookie was positively glowing. It reminded Anika of the glow Lucious had come home with a couple of nights ago. It had been so late, and she had asked him where he had been, and he didn't even think twice before giving her an answer. _I went to see Cookie,_ he had told her. It wasn't the truth that had bothered Anika, it was the fact that he didn't lie.

It was that thought that caused Anika to recall another piece of information. A few days after Lucious' late night, she had stumbled across a little blue box that she was sure she wasn't supposed to find. The memory of that settled Anika's nerves, led her to believe that she was foolishly exaggerating everything she thought she had seen between Cookie and Lucious. She had obviously been sitting there too long, which caused her to perceive and think things that weren't really true. Anika straightened her back and crossed her legs, a smile making its way across her face. Lucious was about to show her just how much he loved her; he was going to ask her to marry him.


	5. Decisions, Decisions

Lucious blew out a ragged breath and roughly ran his hands across his face. The excruciating pounding in his head had finally subsided, and for the first time in hours, he felt like he could think straight. The new doctor he had hired told him there would be a few side effects when he provided him with an experimental drug that could possibly cure his ALS, but God, Lucious didn't anticipate being in such agonizing pain. Three days in and he felt like the treatment was only exacerbating his condition. When Lucious had first come into the office, he thought the cramping in his hands, ringing in his ears, and disorientation would never go away. And now that he had found some relief, he kept his movements slow and calculated because he feared doing something that would trigger the side effects again.

Lucious gathered the folders scattered across his desk and placed them in a neat stack in front of him. He had attempted to review the files of the candidates he wanted to interview tomorrow for the Head of Security position, but his blurred vision and throbbing temples had impeded the process. He had decided to tighten up security to better protect himself, his family, and his company after he had found the detective leading the investigation into Bunkie's murder lurking around his property. The investigation was beginning to heat up, and Lucious was being treated like a suspect, so he had allusively told Vernon what he had done to ensure Vernon did whatever was necessary to take the focus off him.

Lucious slid open the top left drawer of his desk and withdrew a pen and a Post-it note so that he could jot down a few notes on the file of a candidate who seemed promising. Before he closed the drawer, Lucious' eyes settled on the little box he had placed there some time ago. He had been moving it around so often, unable to come to a firm decision as he weighed his options. The other night, he had come so close to asking her. He had planned to keep it simple: romantic dinner at home featuring her favourite meal and somewhere during dessert he intended to get down on one knee. But midway through his entrée, Vernon had called to tell him he needed to speak with him in person and it was urgent. When he had met Vernon at Empire, Lucious had ended up removing the ring from his pocket and placing it in his desk, where it had remained for the past few days. Lucious wasn't sure if Vernon's interruption could be attributed to fate, but he had certainly spent the rest of his night thinking about what would've happened had he followed through with his plan.

Was he really willing to sacrifice another chance at happiness with his Queen? Lucious knew that him so much as proposing to Anika would hurt Cookie and render the opportunity to rekindle their relationship slim to none, regardless of the reason behind it. Lucious was a self-serving bastard more often than not, and although he loved Anika, she wasn't the woman who held his heart. Proposing to her wouldn't be about love, it'd be about furthering his own agenda. But there were other ways that he could get the key man insurance policy without proposing to Anika and persuading her physician father to falsify his medical documents. Maybe those ways weren't as straightforward as proposing to her, but ways nonetheless.

Lucious ran two fingers over his goatee and sighed heavily. He was running out of time, the paperwork required for the policy should have been completed ages ago. He needed to make a decision, whether it be one involving Anika or another party entirely.

Lucious looked up and placed the pen he had been holding on top of the stack of files when he heard the side door to his office open. He knew it was her before she even rounded the corner, not only because he could smell her perfume, but because she had a way of entering a room that always alerted him to her presence.

"I know you wanted to see me earlier, but I was busy setting up a press conference for Jamal." Cookie explained, giving him an apologetic smile as she stood in front of his desk. He didn't say anything in response, simply flashed her a weak smile, which she found odd because he always had some snarky thing to say whenever she mentioned something relating to Jamal's career.

Cookie walked around the desk and stopped once she stood beside his chair. She studied his face for a moment, noting that he did look a bit pale. "You okay?" She asked, even though she knew he would claim he was fine when she could see otherwise.

"Yeah, I just ain't had much sleep last night." He responded, which was true, but clearly only half the story.

Cookie sighed, tired of his insistence on being anything but straight with her. "You look pale," She began, then she felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "And you feel warm." Cookie informed, looking into his tired eyes. "Obviously you're not fine, Lucious. You should go home." She advised.

Lucious attempted to perk himself up by giving her the best smile he could muster before responding with, "You gon' stop by to take care of me if I go home?"

"That's what yo' ass got fake ass Halle Berry for." Cookie stated, looking at him pointedly. And for some reason, her response perturbed him, so much so that Lucious felt the need to change the subject of conversation. He skillfully led her into discussing the details surrounding the video to accompany Hakeem and Tiana's new single, since that was why Cookie was there in the first place. He let her do most of the talking, accepted all her stipulations, keeping in mind that Hakeem desperately needed the good publicity that would surround a feature with Tiana; and if Cookie wasn't satisfied, she'd pull the plug on the whole thing.

When they were through, Cookie removed her body from the chair in front of Lucious' desk, about to leave. But he didn't want her to go yet, so Lucious motioned for Cookie to follow him, letting her know that he wanted her input on something he'd been working on. Lucious made his way towards his grand piano with Cookie following closely behind him. He would readily admit that the piece was subpar, to say the least, but he credited that to the array of events that had been hampering his flashes of inspiration lately.

Cookie positioned herself beside the piano as she listened to the soulful sound filling the air as her ex-husband's fingers moved gracefully across the keys. He had barely begun and Cookie could already tell that it wasn't some of his best work. In spite of that, it still had that special something Lucious' music always embodied. Cookie took note of the serene look on Lucious' face; he always seemed so at peace when he played. She recalled those late nights when she'd wake up in the middle of the night only to discover that her husband wasn't asleep beside her. She'd always find him in the same spot: the little corner she had set up in their living room for his keyboard. On nights like those, she'd pull out a chair and sit right beside him and listen as he went on about some melody in his head that he just _had_ to get out. Sometimes she'd joke that she was sure he loved his music more than he loved her, and Lucious would tell Cookie that if he ever had to choose, it'd always be her.

Lucious stopped before he was finished because his hand began to spasm, and he looked up, hoping that Cookie didn't notice. He examined her delicate features, taking in the wistful expression on her face. "So what do you think, Cooks?" He asked, and when she just stared at him instead of saying anything, he went on. "That bad?" He questioned with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Cookie shook her head. "No." She responded and paused before she continued. "It's just....it's been a while since I've seen you play like this." She said, using her hand to gesture between them. Lucious nodded his head, understanding completely without her having to elaborate. "As for what you got going on," She started, flashing him a broad smile. "It could use some work," She stopped for a moment and grinned before rephrasing her statement, "Actually, it could use _a lot_ of work. You're all over the place with it, Lucious....it's disjointed." Lucious made a face, pretending to be offended. "But you're on to something." Cookie added.

"Well, Ms. _it could use a lot of work_ ," Lucious said smiling brightly, although the pulsing he felt at the side of his head indicated the beginning of another headache. "You gon' come over here and help me figure this out?" He asked, scooting over and patting the spot beside him. "You know you helped me roll out some of my best work." He declared.

Cookie wasted no time joining him, and once they got started, Lucious couldn't stop singing her high praises. When she pointed out a problem, it became so glaringly obvious that Lucious wondered how he could have possibly overlooked it in the first place. He had no doubt that he would've eventually figured it out on his own, but Cookie always expedited his creative process and made things so much easier. There was something immensely comforting about knowing they still worked so well together after so many years apart. Lucious wasn't surprised, but he did have his doubts, which were admittedly more about himself than her.

He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed since they had initially begun, but somewhere between changing an interval from major to minor, Cookie looked at him with worry-filled eyes and told him to go home because she could tell he wasn't feeling well. Lucious was barely keeping it together, so he didn't argue. He instructed Becky to cancel everything he had lined up for the rest of the day, and he left the office with the crippling headache he had come in with.

Although he appreciated the concern, he hated that Becky made such a big fuss of his early departure. She had interrogated him in a voice so loud Lucious was certain his head was about to explode. And when he got into his car, his driver made it no better with repeated variations of, _Are you okay, Mr. Lyon? Are you sure you're okay, Mr. Lyon, you don't look too good?_ Lucious just wanted everybody to shut up.

When he got home, he didn't even attempt to make his way to his bedroom. Lucious stumbled into the living room and spent the next few hours on the sofa in a fretful cross between sleep and awake. His inability to find any lasting relief put him in such a horrible mood. The constant flare-ups were like being continuously hit with the realization that he was going to die.

He became so bitterly angry he got up, walked to the end table, picked up the Ming Dynasty vase he had paid $2.9 million for and launched it across the room. Upon hearing the sound, Juanita came rushing in to find out what had happened, and left just as quickly as she had come when Lucious tossed her a vicious glare. In that moment, he hated everything and everyone to a varying degree. He had spent his entire adult life navigating the world with an air of immortality, and now his days were numbered. He knew that a lot of people would find great joy in knowing that Lucious Lyon would soon be no more. He had done so many horrid things throughout his life, most of which, if ever spoken about, required being mentioned in a whispered voice even if a room was well soundproofed.

With the ache in his head subsiding enough for him to form a coherent thought and his arms and legs no longer feeling like they were about to fall off, Lucious made his way to the bar to fix himself a drink, which took so much more effort than usual because he had trouble gripping the glass and bottle.

He figured if he was enduring the erratic torture brought about by the treatment knowing there was a possibility that it wouldn't work and he could still die—difficulty eating, swallowing, and breathing, weight loss, muscles wasting away, and eventual paralysis _die_ —then he wanted to do something that would, in a sense, serve as the first act of atonement for all of the sordid things he had done; and he wanted to be pleasantly buzzed to do so.

So when Lucious finally managed to pour himself a drink, he took it to the head and poured himself another, and another, then reclaimed his spot on the sofa as he waited for her to show up. And it took a while, but when Anika entered the living room looking as beautiful as ever in a white ribbed dress and cardigan, Lucious smiled because somehow, her appearance made what he was about tell her just a little easier. When she sashayed towards him, he motioned for her to sit down, and began their conversation with a simple sentence: Baby, I need to talk to you.


	6. Who Am I to You?

Cookie's day began in the same manner it always did since she had been released.

She woke up a little earlier than was necessary, and remained in bed with her eyes closed, taking in the stillness, the silence. Sometimes she would get so fixated on the quiet. Prison had been loud, almost all the time: Incessant yelling among inmates, directives blaring over the intercom, corrections officers roaring instructions, doors slamming and keys turning. The quiet moments Cookie basked in each morning before preparing herself for the day were a reminder that she was free.

Being in prison had become a normal way of life, and even though it was horrendous, it was something Cookie clearly understood. So when she had been released, Cookie was uncertain about where she fit in. Everything was so different, and everyone had lives that didn't involve her. Jamal had helped her find her footing though. And her work at Empire gave her an indescribable sense of purpose. Managing Jamal and Tiana made her feel like  _Cookie_ , not some ex-con who needed to be watched and spoken to in an oversimplified fashion. They trusted and valued her professional opinion, and that meant more to Cookie than she could ever put into words.

When Cookie left bed, she entered her bathroom and took her time completing her morning routine. Cookie always took her time. She relished the way the hot water from the shower cascaded down her body, the privacy of it all.

All the structure she had lived by in prison was gone, and she loved that. Thrived on the absence of it. She enjoyed the new pace, the speed, the unpredictability, the seemingly infinite amount of information at her fingertips. Her work, her family, and the new people she had met were all so captivating. On the occasions that Cookie did find herself missing her prison friends, she felt bad for  _not_ missing them _more_. She wanted to distance herself from that part of her life. Cookie had dreams about prison, nightmares about going back.

After she exited the bathroom, Cookie headed to her closet to pick out an outfit before applying her makeup. She only had two things scheduled for the day: A studio session with Jamal, and lunch with Andre and Rhonda. She had been hinting at wanting to spend more time with Andre, and when he had invited her to lunch with him and his wife, Cookie didn't pass up the opportunity, although it wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Cookie settled on the vibrant red Hermès dress she had bought from Saks Fifth Avenue a few days ago. She removed it from its hanger and laid it across her bed, admiring the intricate details of the silky fabric.

Cookie had come out of a system where everyone was required to wear the same thing. Having such an elaborate and extensive wardrobe after wearing a god-awful jumpsuit day after day for  _years_  was like swimming in a swirling kaleidoscope of colours that left her giddy with delight. Cookie was more determined than ever to wear whatever the hell she wanted without giving a damn about what anyone thought.

After she was finished getting ready, Cookie gave herself a final once-over in the full-length mirror, made her way out of her apartment, and entered the car waiting for her outside.

Cookie gazed out the window as the car cruised down the street. She took in the high-rise buildings and skyscrapers, the billboards and posters, the people either buying something from a vendor or crossing the street. Cookie had been to New York a few times before she went to prison, and while incarcerated, she had read lots of books that were set in New York. But none of them conjured up memories of the New York she was familiar with; most of them took place in the high society of 19th and 20th-century New York City. They didn't give her what she was searching for: that escape, the feeling of being connected to the world in which her babies resided.

"Cookie! Cookie!"

_Is this bitch crazy?_ Cookie had barely exited the elevator at Empire and the shrill sound of Porsha trying to get her attention was already filling her ears. Cookie turned in the direction of the voice and placed a hand on her hip. "Porsha, why is yo' ass runnin' while screamin' my name like you done lost yo' goddamn mind?!" Cookie barked, glaring at her assistant.

"I'm sorry," Porsha said, sounding slightly out of breath. "But it felt like I was waiting forever for you to get here. I have something to show you." She gave Cookie a broad smile and brought the iPad she was holding into Cookie's view. "Look!" Porsha chirped, eyes glowing as she waited for Cookie's reaction.

Cookie sucked her teeth at Porsha's overexcitement. "Why are you so excited about this?" Cooked asked in a slightly annoyed tone after scanning the article.

Porsha rolled her eyes at Cookie's lack of enthusiasm. "That is a bomb-ass picture of you!" Porsha declared, pointing at the screen. "And did you even read it? That lady said some real nice things 'bout you."

"Yes, I read it, Porsha." Cookie confirmed as she began walking in the direction of her office. "I just don't think it's that big a deal." She said, looking to her left at Porsha who was removing something from her fanny pack. Unbeknownst to Porsha, Cookie had read the article before she came in. It was one of few articles from an entertainment blog that didn't have something malicious to say about her. But even though the author did say some incredibly flattering things about Cookie as it relates to her job, Cookie didn't think it warranted the attention Porsha was giving it.

"You 'bout to be crazy famous real soon!" Porsha declared as she plopped her body into a chair in Cookie's office. "And when that happens, I'ma need you to sign a lot of autographs for me so I can sell 'em on eBay." Porsha said, her white teeth shining through her purple-painted lips. Porsha's eyes lit up as though she had a sudden moment of realization. "Actually, you can get started on that now so I can be ahead of the game." She said. Porsha stood up, walked to the front of Cookie's desk, and slid the notepad that was on it closer to her boss. "What?" Porsha questioned, taking in the dirty look Cookie was giving her.

Cookie placed her elbows on her desk and folded her hands under her chin. "Sometimes I wonder why I even hired yo'  _stupid_  ass." Cookie told her.

"Ain't nobody else crazy enough to work for you." Porsha mumbled under her breath.

Cookie narrowed her eyes. "What was that?"

"Nothin'." Porsha said quickly. "I was just sayin' this the best job I ever had, and you a real good boss." Porsha stated, flashing Cookie a bright smile. But when Porsha took in the all-too-familiar way Cookie pursed her lips, she knew what was coming next.

"Get outta my damn office, Porsha!" Cookie demanded, dismissing Porsha with a wave of her hand.

Porsha folded her arms across her chest. "I ain't even do nothin'." She whined. "And besides, what am I s'posed to do out there if you in here? You ain't even give me nothin' to do yet."

Cookie ignored Porsha's question as she looked at her phone, reading a text message from Jamal letting her know he was waiting for her in studio A. Cookie zipped up her bag and placed it under her desk before standing. She then removed her black sable fur coat, draped it over the back of her chair, and made her way out the door.

"Where we going?" Porsha asked, scurrying behind Cookie as she strutted down the hall.

Cookie held off on answering Porsha's question until she arrived in front of the elevator. " _We_  ain't going nowhere." She stated, pushing the down button on the elevator. "Didn't I tell you to find somethin' to do?"

"Nah, what you told me was to get outta yo' office, and I'm out. So where we going?"

" _I'm_  going to the studio to work on a song with Jamal." Cookie informed. And just as Cookie began to form another sentence, Porsha loudly interjected, "Can I come?!"

_"Pleeeeease,"_ Porsha pleaded when Cookie looked as though she were about to say no. "You never let me come. And you know I always wanted to see what it be like when folks makin' a song."

Cookie rolled her eyes at Porsha's antics. "Fine," Cookie said with a hint of annoyance as she stepped into the elevator. She then looked over at Porsha once she had done the same and added, "But you better be quiet when we get there."

When Cookie had hired Porsha a couple of weeks ago, she didn't think she'd keep her past the first few days. Porsha certainly tried her patience time and time again, and at times, Porsha's presence seemed to contribute to Cookie's workload instead of lightening it. But in a lot of ways, Porsha reminded Cookie of herself, and once she had settled into her new job, Cookie found that Porsha often thought of things she needed before she even knew she needed them.

Porsha had shown Cookie that she could help her be more efficient, and Porsha had definitely proven herself to be someone Cookie could trust when she informed her that Anika wanted her to spy on Cookie. Cookie still couldn't believe Anika's bougie ass was brave enough to hire Porsha to spy on her. It wasn't that she had put it past Anika, because she always thought her ass was sneaky, but for her to  _actually be bold enough to mess with Cookie_.....The thought of it made Cookie want to drag that bitch by her pearls so she'd never try some shit like that again. Anika's plan had backfired on her though. Whenever Porsha couldn't, she had someone keeping an eye out for any suspicious behaviour the debutante exhibited.

Cookie and Porsha exited the elevator and sauntered into the studio. Porsha immediately took a seat at the back while Cookie ambled towards Jamal who was leaning against the soundboard.

"Hey, baby." She said, holding his face in her hands and kissing him on his forehead. "Hey, Ma." He responded, the radiance of his smile causing Cookie's to widen. "This song 'bout to be so hot! I been workin' on it all night, and I finally figured out what I wanna do with the chorus. You ain't even ready for what you 'bout to hear!" He gushed, taking a few steps away from the soundboard.

Cookie grinned. "Well, go in there let me see if you gon' backup all this talk you got then." She told him. As Jamal made his way into the recording booth, Cookie greeted the sound engineer, then sat in the empty chair next to him.

"Psssst....Cookie." Porsha said in a voice that was far from a whisper.

Cookie angled her body in the chair and looked at Porsha over her shoulder. "Porsha, whateva you have to say better be important 'cause I know yo' ass see me tryna pay attention to my baby." Cookie said in a deathly low voice, glaring at Porsha.

Porsha fiddled with the fur on the collar of her denim jacket. "Never mind then." Porsha grumbled.

Cookie returned her attention to Jamal, completely entranced when the instrumental started to play and he began to sing. Watching her son perform in any setting always filled Cookie with so much pride. Sometimes she found it hard to believe he was once that little boy who used to run around the house singing his father's songs, or any song for that matter, at the top of his lungs, in a voice that was wondrously off-key.

One time, she had found him sitting on the floor of the room he shared with Andre with two little brown bears positioned against the wall and a ruler in his left hand. He was singing to the bears in the most serious voice, and when he noticed Cookie was watching, he stood up, told her he was having a concert, and began to sing to her instead. Cookie instantly realized he'd made up the song when she heard lyrics that mentioned their leaky roof, crayons, and the whupping Andre got for breaking a string on Lucious' guitar. The confident bow he took when he was finished and the toothy grin on his little face had made her feel so full. 

"It's not balanced." Cookie told the sound engineer, and he made the necessary adjustments before stopping the track so Jamal could take it from the top again. And for well over two hours, they continued in a similar fashion: Cookie, suggesting a few changes to the beat; Cookie, telling the sound engineer to stop the track and play it back because  _something just ain't right about that;_ Cookie, tellingJamal to hold off on the high note in the first part of the chorus because _you're doing too much too soon._ She wanted that song to be perfect so that they could have it ready for release after he sang it at the press conference on Saturday. Cookie was prepared to do whatever it took to help her baby become a star, especially since his father expressed no interest in helping his son further his music career. She'd make sure she stood one-hundred percent behind whatever her son wanted.

Cookie pushed the intercom button. "Mal, that was real good, baby." Cookie told him. He had just finished recording the bridge again after they had made some minor changes to it. "Come on out here so we can listen to what we have so far." Jamal removed his headphones, made his way out of the booth, and stood beside Cookie. When the song began to play, Jamal met his mother's eyes and flashed her a smile that lit up the room, causing everything to seem so much more alive. She'd never get tired of seeing him smile like that. Cookie loved all her sons beyond measure, but there was a special place in her heart reserved just for Jamal. He had been a source of light during the darkest time in her life. He had brought her back to the surface when she felt like she was drowning. Visits from him were what Cookie had cherished most for seventeen years; Jamal had helped dull the ache that was hollowing her out.

"Jamal..." Andre said in a voice that had a grave edge to it. He placed a hand on Jamal's shoulder which prompted Jamal to turn and face him. He and Cookie had been so absorbed in his music that they didn't hear when Andre entered the studio. "What's up?" Jamal asked, studying his brother's face.

When Cookie heard Andre's voice, she directed her attention towards him as well. She thought he was there to take her to lunch, so she said: "Andre, baby, aren't you a little early? I thought you were coming to get me around one?" But Andre wasn't looking at her, his eyes were focused on Jamal.

"Jamal, we have to go." He said. And that's when Cookie heard the panic in his voice, saw the fear in his eyes. "Dre, baby, what's wrong?" She asked, her words slightly hurried, voice uncharacteristically low.

"Dad's on his way to the hospital," He started, and both Cookie and Jamal's eyes simultaneously widened. "One of the maids, they found him at home in his office. They think he collapsed or something, I don't know....He was unconscious, so they called an ambulance. And...and Juanita, she called me and—" Andre stopped himself abruptly, realizing he was wasting time explaining now when he could tell them during the drive. "Just...let's go. By the time we arrive, he should already be there." Andre briskly walked out of the studio without another word, Jamal right behind him.

Cookie blocked out the sound of Porsha trying to get her attention. Barely heard when Jamal said, "Ma, let's go." She was equal parts confused and frightened. Confused because Lucious was supposed to be out of town. She'd seen him on Tuesday, couldn't stop thinking about him that night, the song they'd been working on dancing around her head. On Wednesday, she wanted to make sure Lucious was feeling better. So she went to his office to see him, but he wasn't there. And when Cookie had asked Becky, she'd told her Lucious was scheduled to be in Chicago that afternoon until Friday. Cookie figured if he was planning to travel, then he must have been feeling better.

Now she found out that not only was Lucious still in New York, but he was being taken to the hospital. Cookie was trying to work out what could have possibly happened between Tuesday and today.

"I tried calling Anika," Andre informed once they were in the car. "Her phone kept going straight to voicemail. Juanita said she tried calling her first, but when she couldn't get through to her, she called me." He explained. Jamal volunteered to try contacting Anika again, and Cookie had to bite her lip to keep from yelling:  _Who fucking cares if Anika's not here?_ ** _I'm here._**

Andre told them which hospital they were going to, and he went on about everything he knew about Lucious' condition so far. But Cookie found it hard to focus on what he was saying. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what was happening.

Cookie always thought that if anything were to ever bring her to the hospital for Lucious, it'd be gun related. But Lucious had never been shot. He'd been  _shot at_ , several times, but he'd never taken a hit.

Cookie had spent so many nights worrying about whether or not her husband would return home. She used to wait for him on the couch or in their bedroom, and thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong would flood her mind. She tried to stay positive, but that was difficult when she knew first-hand the type of danger that would surround him. Sometimes Andre insisted on waiting up with her, and she wondered what she'd do if she ever had to tell him his father wasn't coming home.

On nights when Lucious was out later than she expected him to be, she'd be sick with the thought of him in some alley riddled with bullet holes or stab wounds. Cookie had vivid mental images to match her thoughts because she'd known people, seen people who had met that fate. But Lucious always came home, and when she'd see him, she could never decided whether to kiss him or hit him for making her worry so much. Sometimes she'd be so frantic she'd go on about  _what if, what if, what if_ —she'd list so many possible scenarios involving him. Although she was actively involved in the same activities as her husband, Cookie always worried more about something happening to Lucious than to her. She was painfully aware of all the people who wanted to hurt him; Lucious had more enemies than friends. But Lucious always agonized about someone hurting Cookie or their sons to get to him; the thought of that happening deprived him of sleep many nights.

Living in the projects of Philly was extremely dangerous, and the activities they were involved in only served to magnify that. Cookie had spent so much time asking God to keep her family safe, asking God to help them obtain the better life they were working towards. And when she went to prison, her prayers only intensified. When she wasn't on her knees asking for her own protection and strength to get through each day, she was asking God to keep her sons and their father safe and anything else she could think of. The first cellmate Cookie had used to ridicule her whenever she prayed aloud:  _Whatever God you're praying to sure ain't prevent you from ending up here. If there was a God, you think he'd care 'bout what happens to someone like you?_ Cookie never let her cellmate deter her though; praying was one of few things that felt right, that got her through.

"Ma, you okay?" Jamal asked in a gentle voice. Cookie followed the direction of his gaze and realized she had been tapping the heel of her shoe against the floor in a way that made her leg shake frantically. She stilled her movement and met Jamal's eyes. "Yeah, baby. I'm okay." She said, giving him what she thought was a convincing smile.

Those were the first words spoken between any of them since Dr. Shire had updated them on Lucious' condition. It was like they had some unspoken agreement that they'd just wait in silence.

They had arrived at the hospital over an hour ago, and they were waiting for another update. Dr. Shire had told them Lucious was still in and out of consciousness, and they were working on treating his symptoms and determining their cause.  _Mr. Lyon's white blood cell count is abnormally low which indicates that something is destroying the cells faster than they are being made._   _His heartbeat is irregular and his blood pressure is way below normal levels. The paramedics said he had a seizure on the way here._

_Seizure._ That piece of information stuck with them most, made the room feel like it was spinning _._ They were all trying to make sense of what was happening.

Andre got up and began to pace the room because sitting there made him feel so helpless, he had the aching need to just do  _something_. The last time Andre had seen Lucious, he didn't notice anything that may have suggested his father was ill, so now he was racking his brain trying to figure out if he had missed something that he should've been able to see. But the more he thought about, the more Andre realized he couldn't recall a time in his life when he had ever seen his father sick.

Andre removed his phone from the side pocket of his pants and attempted to call Anika again, operating on the idea that she had the right to know what was going on, and his father would want her there. Once again, Anika's phone went straight to voicemail, and this time, Andre didn't bother leaving another message. He wondered what could possibly be preventing Anika from answering her phone; he'd never known her to be the type of person who turned off their phone or purposely ignored calls. He had also called Hakeem to let him know what was going on, but his brother was God knows where. He'd said he was coming, but he had yet to arrive.

Andre let out a frustrated breath and ran a hand over his head. He felt like it had been way too long since they had received an update, and he couldn't settle on whether no news meant good news or to expect the worst. Either way, he hated this—the not knowing, having no control over the situation. As a child, Andre had thought his father invincible.  _I'm a Lyon. A God. Nothing can defeat me._  He had seen his father overcome obstacle after obstacle, and he had always come out virtually unscathed. As an adult, the thought that his father would be able to overcome anything stuck with him. So although he was worried, Andre believed his father would be able to beat whatever was ailing him.

Andre surveyed the room, taking in the pale blue walls, rows of grey chairs, Jamal twiddling with his phone, and when his eyes settled on his mother, he noticed she was shivering. Andre made his way to her, took off his blazer, and draped it over her shoulders. "Thank you, baby." Cookie said, pulling herself out of her daze. Andre gave her a faint smile and sat in the empty chair beside her.

She hadn't moved much since they first arrived, since she and her sons had demanded answers, since the information they'd received had nearly been her undoing. Cookie figured if she kept still, she could keep it together. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and the knot in the pit of her stomach kept getting tighter and tighter.

She'd spent a lot of time agonizing over the possibility of something happening to Lucious. But she'd never done this—the waiting and worrying of actually knowing that something was wrong with him, the overwhelming need to see him that accompanied it. There was that one time Lucious had come home with a few stab wounds, but that was different. The wounds weren't fatal, and they certainly didn't go to a hospital for treatment. Some guy who lived down the block had come waltzing in with a bag full of medical supplies and fixed Lucious up right on their bed. And she'd been there the whole time, held his hand until the "doctor" was through. She didn't have to go through not seeing him and waiting for someone to tell her whether or not he'd be okay.

Lucious had though, she recalled. Lucious had been in the position she currently found herself in:

Cookie had woken up early one morning feeling feverish and nauseous. And the sharp pain in her side made her think twice before inhaling. Cookie thought it was food poisoning from the dinner Carol had made the night before.

_Carol, I knew something was off about that mess you called a casserole!_

_Nuh uh, Cooks, don't try it! Yo' ass is the only one who's sick. Ain't a damn thing was wrong with my food._

Cookie wasn't hearing it though. She blamed Carol's casserole for having her holed up in the bathroom for most of the day. By the next day, the pain in her stomach had intensified, but she was managing.  _I ain't no punk._ The painkillers she took did offer some relief, although minimal. And by late afternoon, she was shooing her husband out of the house.

_You were already here with me all day yesterday, baby. Go take care of business, you can't put it off for another day. Carol's here with me, I'll be fine._

But she wasn't fine. By nightfall, she was in so much pain she could hardly move. Whenever they talked about that day, Carol always told the story of what happened:

_I went to check on you and Cook, you were sweatin' and you were so hot when I felt you. You were mumblin' somethin' I couldn't even understand, but I could tell you were in a lot of pain. Girl, I was so scared. I called an ambulance as fast as I could, and I took Andre and Jamal next door to Miss Ina. When the ambulance came I rode with you. And while the paramedic was examining you, he asked me what kinda symptoms you were havin' and for how long. When he was done, he told me he thought you had appendicitis. So when we got to the hospital, the doctors ran some tests and they told me they had to take you into surgery right away 'cause they suspected your appendix had ruptured, and that can be fatal 'cause it can cause blood poisoning._

_I had already let Lucious know what was going on, but his gangsta ass still came up in there acting a damn fool. He was raging through that hospital talkin' 'bout:_ **I need to see my wife. Mayne, somebody up in here better tell me what's going on with my wife.** _Cook, his ass was so loud. He kept harassin' the staff askin' how long it was gon' be 'til he got to see you. When the security told Lucious he had to stop being disruptive or he'd have to escort him off the premises, Lucious gon' talk 'bout:_ **Nigga, I'd like to see you try.** _Girl, I had to pull him aside and calm his crazy ass down before he got us both kicked outta the damn hospital. We must've waited for over two hours before we got to see you._

Cookie remembered waking up to Lucious at her bedside, remembered the feel his lips as he planted kisses all over her face.   _I knew I shouldn't have left you, baby. I should've been there to help. I should've taken you to the hospital the minute you said you didn't feel good._ No matter what she said, Cookie couldn't get him to stop beating himself up about the whole situation.

She had spent six days in the hospital on intravenous antibiotics, and six weeks on oral antibiotics after they had sent her home. And for the duration of it all, Lucious had been glued to her side making sure she had whatever she needed.

"Are you here about my father?" Andre eagerly asked when someone who wasn't Dr. Shire entered the room. Andre stood and anxiously rubbed his hands together.

"Mr. Lyon, correct?" The man asked. Andre nodded his confirmation, and Cookie and Jamal followed his lead by standing.

"I'm Dr. Moore," He stated in a silvery voice. "Dr. Shire sent me to update you. Mr. Lyon is doing significantly better than when he first arrived. He's conscious now, and we were able to stabilize his blood pressure and get his heart rate under control. The seizure was as a result of abnormal levels of sodium in his blood, which we were able to regulate." The doctor went on to explain what sort of treatment Lucious had received and what he had been treated for as best he could without disclosing the primary cause of Lucious' hospitalization.

When Lucious had regained consciousness, Dr. Shire had questioned him about any medications he may have started taking or any recent changes to his diet because they had found a toxin in his blood that they hadn't been able to identify. Lucious grudgingly informed her of his so called breakthrough ALS drug; and after Dr. Shire had sufficiently reprimanded him, she let him know they were able to get the symptoms caused by the drug under control, and he should be fine as long as he stopped using it (well as fine as one can be when they have ALS). When she'd told him that his family was out there waiting on an update, Lucious being Lucious requested they not be given any information regarding the drug or his ALS.

"So can we see him?" Cookie anxiously asked when Dr. Moore seemed as though he was finished talking.

"Mr. Lyon is still experiencing quite a bit of discomfort, and Dr. Shire is in the process of remedying that. So as soon as she is done, someone will be right out to take you to see him." He told them, and they all conveyed their understanding before sitting back down.

And as Cookie sat their watching Andre pull out his phone  _again_  to try contacting Anika; it hit her, hard: She had figured out so many things since she had been released, but she was still uncertain about her role in Lucious life. Still unsure of what she wanted it to be.


End file.
